Of Sickness and Worry
by enigma-kar
Summary: When McCoy is sick, Kirk is there to look after him. Despite this, Bones admits his worry. Slightly angsty, yet fluffy McKirk slash. Don't like, don't read.


**Disclaimer: **Star Trek (in any form) does not belong to me.

_Watching the Star Trek 2009 movie again, I was (and there is no other way of putting this) viciously attacked by slash bunnies. A number of 'McKirk' fics were the result of this onslaught. This is just the first... _

_Please enjoy, read and review, for this is my first attempt at a Star Trek fic, even if it is OOC (and I need to know if I should quit while I'm ahead). _

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**Of Sickness and Worry**

"It's just the flu, Jim," McCoy muttered, his voice lacking its usual gruffness.

"Worse case of a flu I've ever seen," Kirk replied, a hint of humour in his soft voice. McCoy rolled his eyes in reply and made to sit up. "Oh, no you don't," Kirk gently pressed him back into the bed.

"Dammit, Jim; it's a flu. I'm not dying."

Kirk raised an eyebrow, but made no attempt to argue. Instead he reached forward and dabbed the clammy medic's forehead with a wet cloth. McCoy shuddered against a chill and impulsively leaned into Kirk's touch. He had been bed-ridden for the past two days, yet had hardly got any sleep. However, he still remained relatively optimistic; at least in the face of Jim, which was the only face he'd seen recently as the captain sat by his bedside at every second moment.

"You know it's kinda ironic with you, the medic, getting sick. Can't happen often," Kirk said somewhat cheekily, brushing a stray, sweat-dampened hair from his friend's forehead.

"Thanks for the observation."

"Anytime, Bones," Kirk smiled down at his friend, secretly pleased he was well enough to use sarcasm.

"You know you don't have to sit here with me, Jim."

"You said yourself there is no risk of infection. Besides, I know you'd do the same if that was me lying in bed sick."

"That's different," McCoy argued. "I'm medical; it's my job to look after sick people."

"Not this time," Kirk said. And he once again resorted to wiping the sweat away. "Is there anything else you need?" the captain asked a few moments later. "Anything I can get you?"

"Anything strong than that God awful tea you brought me before."

Kirk bit back a laugh. "You know full well alcohol and drugs are a bad combination."

"For God's sake..."

"You should calm down too, Bones."

"Who's the medic here?"

"And who's the healthy one?"

McCoy groaned and shuddered involuntarily against another feverish chill and Kirk reached forward again to resume care. The two of them sat in a comfortable silence for several minutes, before McCoy spoke again.

"I'm glad you're here, Jim."

Kirk nodded. "I wouldn't be anywhere else."

McCoy returned the nod. "Well, it sure makes a difference; you caring for me, rather than the other way around."

"The other way around? That hardly ever happens, Bones," Kirk waved it off and McCoy made to sit up again, his face completely serious. The captain pushed his friend back into the covers again before allowing him to speak.

"Fine. Sure, it never happens," McCoy agreed, however they both knew he had always been there to look after the captain. Always had been and always, always will be. "But I'm still always left in damn sick bay to worry about you while you go off and..." he continued before trailing off, unable to continue.

"You worry about me?"

The medic didn't reply and made to turn away, shrugging the covers up around himself. He didn't want to be having this conversation; least of all now.

"Hey, Bones," Kirk placed a hand on the other's shoulder. "Hey, look at me."

"What?" McCoy muttered gruffly as he reluctantly turned back again.

Kirk considered questioning him again, but decided against it. Somehow he knew what the answer would be. "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I'm sorry...for causing you worry. I hadn't realised..."

McCoy simply nodded and when Kirk reached out to cup the medic's cheek, he leaned into the caress and pressed his own hand over the top. With a shuddering sigh he closed his eyes and muttered what he hoped sounded like a 'thank you'.

"It's ok," Kirk assured him, smiling despite the other's lack of vision.

"Don't leave me, Jim," McCoy's voice broke as he said it.

"I'm not going anywhere, Bones," and he leaned forward to press a light kiss on his forehead. "I promise."

It was McCoy's turned to smile as he slowly drifted off to sleep, knowing his Jim would be there when he woke up.


End file.
